


Stitches

by CherryIntestines



Category: Watchmen - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, M/M, Masturbation, No Sex, One-Sided Relationship, Period-Typical Homophobia, Sexual Assault
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-19
Updated: 2017-08-19
Packaged: 2018-12-17 05:00:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11844450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CherryIntestines/pseuds/CherryIntestines
Summary: If Eddie had to pinpoint an exact date where his interest in Hollis Mason exceeded just normal platonic curiosity, it would be the February of 1940.





	Stitches

**Author's Note:**

> The story that not only nobody wanted, but also that nobody needed. Regardless, it exists. The longest fanfic I've ever made by far. I was even planning an epilogue, but I'm just too tired now. Maybe someday. Anyway, I'm happy with it. Enjoy.
> 
> Props to my sister for coming up with the title and giving me ideas. What a champ.

If Eddie had to pinpoint an exact date where his interest in Hollis Mason exceeded just normal platonic curiosity, it would be the February of 1940.

Hollis and Eddie had been assigned to stake out a drug trade in the South Bronx. It wasn’t the first time Eddie would be working with Hollis, but it was the first time they were paired up to complete a specific mission together. Before that, they did a couple of low profile patrols together, nothing really to write home about. The nights patrolling would always end up the same; the perps would be dealt with and caught, if not a little worse for wear from Eddie’s usual treatment of criminals. The night would always end with Hollis lecturing Eddie on the importance of self restraint when dealing with criminals, and Eddie would not so kindly blow him off with a few choice words.

The dealers were supposed to rendezvous around midnight in an alley behind a canned goods warehouse. The two crimefighters’ jobs were to arrive at the vantage point an hour prior to the trade and wait until they saw the exchange before they charged in and arrested the men, so they chose a discreet spot near the back of the warehouse where they could get a good look at the alley and the criminals that would soon be occupying it and waited. Both of the crimefighters sat in silence, keeping their eyes peeled for the law breakers that would soon arrive.

It was after two hours of waiting past the previously said rendezvous time where Eddie started to get antsy. The adolescent had already ran through the plan a myriad of times as he casually scanned the area. Catching sight of wooden crates littered around the rear of the factory, he fleetingly considered using a crowbar left near a half opened crate as a negotiation tactic if the culprits got particularly adverse. He started to constantly change positions, from sitting to squatting, to laying sprawled out on the dirty ground with a complete disregard for the filth that would surely be on his clothes and in his hair when he sat back up. After about half an hour of wordlessly shifting around, Eddie finally sat back in the first position he and Hollis started in and pulled out a cigar from his pants pocket. He glanced at Hollis while placing the stogie in his mouth, recognizing the perturbed expression currently inhabiting Hollis’ face; the only acknowledgement the disgruntled colleague received was an impish, knowing look before pulling out his lighter and lighting the cheapo cigar. It was only then that Hollis broke the nearly three hour silence.

“Eddie, I could tolerate the squirming around for an hour but this is just too much. I am not about to sit here for another hour while you blow that rank smoke in my face.”

The younger man rolled his eyes at hearing Hollis’ comment before countering with his own response.

“Hey, it’s not my fault that pansy-ass Nelson don’t have his facts straight. I’m goin’ nuts just sitting here tight-lipped waiting for guys that I’m startin’ to think aren’t even gonna show up in the first place.”

Eddie was used to speaking his mind in front of people, whether they were older than him or any type of authority figure made no difference; he could really care less. He especially took pleasure in taking guys like Hollis down a few notches, guys that thought acting high and mighty made them suddenly know all the answers. But if Eddie knew anything, he knew that guys like that didn’t take a confrontation sitting down. Hollis was no exception.

“Just because you have to wait a while doesn’t mean you have the right to abandon a mission. You don’t get to screw around just because you’re bored. If you’re going to be a hero you have to act like one. Right now you’re just acting childish.”

“I don’t know, I think sittin’ around calling people childish is pretty childish, right?” Eddie smirked as he retorted with another smart mouthed quip. Catching on to the losing battle he was fighting, Hollis sighed before he began to move to a different position behind Eddie.

“I am not doing this with you right now. If you wanna blow smoke until the perps show up, fine, I’m not gonna stop you. Just remember to advance on the guys when you see the hand off, not before. Understand?”

Eddie replied with a disinterested wave over his shoulder towards his colleague's current position. It was when the minor faced forward again that he saw one of the men Hollis and himself had been waiting a majority of the night for. He looked like a typical underpaid laborer, a sweat stained white shirt with tan overalls; his only distinguishing feature was a ratty mustache that adorned his ugly scarred face. The younger man’s eyes lit up as he excitedly turned to Hollis, greeted by an expression that nearly mirrored his. Eddie stood his ground figuring the second man would show up a few minutes after the first. Ten minutes passed with nothing happening but the alleged drug dealer leisurely flipping through a tijuana bible, taking sips out of a dingy flask. There was no sign of another man coming, let alone a big drug related transaction happening.

Eddie slowly pivoted around to seek out his teammate. When he finally caught sight of the older man, the look on his face was one of apprehension and caution. The teen leaned forward to get a little closer to Hollis, who was still in the space behind him, to whisper his plans without giving away his position.  
“Cover me, I’m gonna get the jump on this guy and get him to tell me where the other lowlife is hiding.”  
After shaking his head in disapproval of the new plan, Hollis hissed his reply.

“Eddie, don’t! We were told to wait until we saw the trade off before acting. This man might not be apart of this at all, or this may be some type of trap to catch us off guard.”

“We’ve been waiting here for the entire fuckin’ night, and I’m not leavin’ empty handed. That guy has to know something, and I’m gonna find out what.”

Despite hearing the hissed warning from his partner, Eddie advanced on the unsuspecting man with speed. The man’s flask flew out of his hand as he was hastily tackled to the ground, his right arm being painfully bent behind him while his left arm was trapped under the brutal teen’s rubber boot. With his knee in the small of the groaning man’s spine, Eddie started his usual lines of interrogation.  
“Alright buddy, if you wanna make this easier for yourself, then you’ll tell me where your friend is hiding.”

The mustached man replied to the question in a strained voice as he struggled under the weight of the teen on top of him.

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talkin’ about! I was just mindin’ my own business until you jumped on me-”

“Before you try bullshitting me, I already know that two of you were supposed to meet here. If I were you, I’d start singin’ right about now if I liked my right arm being in its socket.”

Before Eddie could continue his line of inquiry, his thoughts were interrupted with the sound of a gun being cocked behind him. The sound of two gunshots rang through the stillness of the cold February night from behind two metal trash cans in the younger man’s blind spot; one bullet narrowly missed Blake’s right bicep while the other grazed his right thigh. Blake gripped his thigh as he reeled from the pain. Before he could get his bearings, a leg swung out and kicked him hard in the side.

The mustached man rose up shakily and gave the covert drug dealer a relieved smile. The gunman smoothed out his greasy blonde hair, then handed his partner a pistol of his own; the mustached man cocked his gun and pressed the muzzle to Eddie’s temple. As the young hero had recoiled away from the loaded pistol, the mustached offender laughed in his face before pulling the gun away. Only being able to manage a look of irate contempt, the young crimefighter was powerless to stop the heavily scarred criminal from kicking him in the ribs. He toppled over while gripping his sore side, glaring up again at his two assailants. The mustached thug began to speak in a condescending tone.

“Not so tough now that we’re face to face, huh?” The criminal reached over to Eddie face, snatching away his domino mask. His face went from mocking to delighted surprise when he saw the extent of Eddie’s uncovered face, dropping the mask to grimy floor.

“Holy shit, are you seeing this? This kid doesn’t look old enough to even be out of high school!” The blonde man wore a similar expression of spiteful glee, his mouth was twisted in a smirk that showed off his crooked teeth that mirrored the yellow of his hair; he began to voice his thoughts as well.

“That is just rich. I didn’t know they were recruiting heroes for a junior league. Maybe this whole hero thing is just blown out of proportion. After all, how tough can they be if all they’ll send out are little faggots in Halloween costumes?” The snaggle toothed thug punctuated the end of his sentence with a cruel stomp to the young man’s already grazed leg. Eddie’s vision blurred with pain as he surveyed the two degenerates in front of him, wracking his brain for an idea on how to get out of the deadly situation he was faced with.

Before Eddie could come up with a feasible plan, a loud cracking noise resounded in the tense air around him. The blonde man collapsed to the ground, the back of his head indented from a cement brick that was now lying on the ground next to him. Hollis charged at the mustached man, who was frozen at the sight of his partner lying in a pool of his own blood on the filthy alley ground. The mustached thug soon came to his senses and whirled in Hollis’ direction. Shooting frantically at the vigilante that was sprinting at him from a few yards away, he managed to hit nothing in his heated desperation. Hollis jabbed his elbow in the man’s stomach, briefly stunning him. The culprit shrugged off the vigilante's blow and managed to swing the butt of the pistol in Hollis’ direction, catching him right on the nose. As the hero doubled over in pain, the felon quickly stood up in hopes of getting the upper hand.

With his good leg, Eddie kicked at the criminal’s feet and toppled him to the floor. Fury burned in the ugly miscreant’s eyes as he readied his pistol to shoot the teen’s face at point blank range. Before the enraged criminal could pull the trigger, a crowbar socked him in the temple; his eye bulging out of it’s socket as the rest of his body convulsed on the ground. The crowbar was ripped from the man’s face before it was buried in deeper with another merciless swat. The final strike caused blood to spurt out of the grisly wound from the massive gash on the perp’s head, hitting Eddie on his chin and lower lip.  
A deafening stillness fell on the alley, and only the sounds of the two vigilantes panting from the intense effort punctuated the carnage. The adolescent sat in stunned silence; he took a long look at the gruesome display of the brutalized corpses next to him before shifting his gaze to his partner. Hollis’ nose was mess, blood pouring out of both nostrils and the bridge split by the butt of the gun. The older vigilante's gloves were caked with blood, his arms and legs splattered with red. The crowbar was sticky with brain matter and bits of skull as it laid abandoned on the ground. Aside from his nose looking absolutely horrible, the seasoned crime fighter’s expression was unlike any Eddie had ever expected to see from his teammates, Hollis least of all. His eyes were wide and dilated, his face taut with adrenaline. If Eddie had to define the look on Hollis’ face, he’d say he looked enthralled.

Finally coming back to himself, Hollis slowly straightened out his posture and let out a deep breath. He slowly turned his head to look at Eddie, noticing that he had been gazing at him. Hollis cleared his throat before he decided to speak to his young teammate.

“Are you okay?”

In response to the question, Eddie’s mouth stretched into a dazed grin before replying.

“What the fuck do you think Hollis?”

The older vigilante walked over to Eddie and crouched down, taking inventory of all his injuries.

“Your leg doesn’t look good at all. Aside from the bruising, you’ll need to get that graze stitched up. Can you walk?”

“Of course I can walk! What do I look like, some delicate flower or something? Give me a fuckin’ break,” Eddie spat as he stood up on wobbly legs. He trudged in front of Hollis, painfully limping his way towards the entrance to the alley. What finally stopped Eddie was a gloved hand gently placed on his shoulder. Hollis addressed Eddie with a tired expression, but when he spoke his voice contained the same collected patience that it had at the beginning of the night.

“You don’t even know where you’re headed. Let me just bring you somewhere where I can patch you up, and then you can run off into the night like the tough guy you are.”  
Before he could argue, his right arm was being thrown around the stern hero’s shoulders. Hollis supported the kid’s weight as they walked in silence. In not much time at all, they reached a police cruiser that was parked just a few blocks from the alley entrance. The older crime fighter unlocked the passenger’s side of the vehicle before opening the door and waiting for the younger man to climb inside. Eddie went from staring at the car to staring at Hollis. The maskless teen gave a complacent smile before speaking up.

“I always knew you were a cop. I could just smell it on you.”

“I thought getting you medical attention was the priority right now, but evidently it’s making jokes at my expense,” Nite Owl huffed, his obvious irritation coloring his speech.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m goin’ okay? Don’t get your panties in a twist.”

Eddie carefully sat on the cruiser’s seat and gently lifted his injured leg in next to him. Closing the door behind the young man, Hollis quickly made his way to the driver's seat, started the vehicle, and drove placidly down the road.

Instead of choosing to make small talk on the way to the location that was unknown to him, Eddie decided to instead take a look around the unfamiliar car. He’s done his share of time in a police cruiser, but never before on the passenger's side. The back seat was occupied with a crumpled up ball of what looked to be a police uniform, the other seat housed a silver thermos that seemed to have leaked a small amount of brown liquid. Eddie chuckled at the thought of Hollis clumsily trying to gulp down some coffee and change into his costume all while in the back of his cop car.

Letting his mind wander a little bit, Eddie barely noticed the car stopping until his teammate announced that they had arrived. Even in the dead of night, it was easy to tell they were in a nicer part of town. The neighborhood was quiet when Hollis helped Eddie out of the seat and walked him to a small house they were parked in front of. With some difficulty they make their way up the stairs and through the front door. Eddie shifted his weight to his left leg and he looked around the dark house.

When Hollis flipped on the lights, Eddie peered curiously around at what he could see of the house. He appeared to currently be in the living room. There was a loveseat near the window at the right side of the room, next to it a small end table with a wooden radio and an empty glass on top of it. The coffee table in front of the loveseat was covered in documents. Eddie always pictured Hollis’ house to be more ornate than the calm complacent home he was faced with.

The walls were adorned with a few pictures of a young, uniformed officer looking friendly with what looked like some pals from the force. The same young man appeared in many of the other photos, either with older people that were probably his parents, or pictures from years back with the friends of his youth. The rowdy vigilante never would have guessed that Hollis would be one to collect photos like some old spinster. After looking at a number of the photos hanging on the wall, the teenager noticed that there were surprisingly no wedding photos with Hollis. Upon closer inspection, the house didn’t contain any signs of a wife and kids at all. There were no dainty shoes next to the tan loafers at the front door, no toys strewn about haphazardly. From the way the older man constantly scolded him, Eddie was sure that his partner would have a couple of pain in the ass rugrats around.

The older man interrupted Eddie’s snooping, motioning for him to follow. Now inside the small kitchen, Eddie took a seat at a round table, complete with two metal chairs on either side. On the table was a first aid kit, containing everything from sewing thread to smelling salts. Hollis sat across from him; the bloody mess on his face had been cleaned up, and a small white bandage laid across his nose that was already starting to turn a painful shade of violet. He had taken off his bloody gloves and washed away the specs of blood that clung to his arms and legs. Hollis looked at his young partner expectantly, vaguely gesturing to him; Eddie answered the policeman with a puzzled expression. Shaking his head, Hollis spoke up.

“Take off your damn costume. How am I supposed to examine you through your clothes?”

The kid, being provoked by his partner’s impatience, answered with matched annoyance.

“Well why didn’t you just fuckin’ say so? How am I supposed to know that you staring at me is code for ‘get naked’? Sheesh.”

The kid bitterly started to remove his boots before he proceeded to unbuckle his belt and unbutton the front of his costume. Falling into the routine that was usually left for being back in his room, Eddie reached for his mask before remembering that he left it back in the alley. He briefly casted a distressed look at Hollis, suddenly feeling exposed at the revelation. Pushing the feeling down, the teen stood before Hollis in a sleeveless undershirt, faded green boxers, and porous socks.

The teen lifted his undershirt as a calloused hand tenderly shifted over the injured ribs. Aside from making a few clinical notes to himself, the older crime fighter said nothing to the kid while he inspected the wounds on his torso. Hollis gently pressed down on the discolored flesh, easing up when the young man hissed in pain. The compassionate touch of the lawman was unnerving with the silence encompassing the small kitchen. Despite the obvious objective nature of the contact, the kid felt his face start to flush nonetheless. Clearing this throat, Eddie spoke up.

“So you really let those guys have it tonight, huh?”

Hollis winced at the comment, but kept his mouth pressed in a firm line as if he didn’t hear the kid. The older vigilante muttered to his younger peer about his leg; the teenager sat down and let the man continue his examination. After about a minute of Hollis inspecting the damaged knee, the provoking crime fighter spoke up again.

“It’s just surprising that you’d have it in you to turn two scumbags into hamburger meat when you’re always complaining when I rough ‘em up.”

The medical treatment was halted after that comment. Hollis looked at the kid with an vexed grimace.

“I wasn’t expecting them to get the jump on you. It won’t happen again.” A glass bottle of hydrogen peroxide was taken out of the first aid kit along with silk thread. Hollis’ frustration was apparent on his face, but he looked as if he wouldn’t comment on the subject anymore. He dabbed at the wound with a cotton cloth, before disinfecting the area with peroxide. The older vigilante had then started to thread the needle when his concentration was broken.

“It’s interesting that you’d say that Hollis. At least now I know what to say when the boys in blue wanna take me to the big house for bashing some guy’s head in. I’ll hit ‘em with the ‘ol ‘oopsie, my bad officer. I won’t do it again, cross my heart!’” The curved tip of the suture needle pierced through the top of the gash before the mouthy boy could continue; a surprised yelp escaped from his lips.

“Christ, I didn’t think you’d play dirty to shut me up! You’re throwing curveball after curveball today, huh?”

“I’m just trying to stitch up your leg. It might hurt less if you would stop fidgeting.”

“Maybe I wouldn’t have moved if you warned me before jabbing a needle into my leg. It’s always someone else’s fault with you.”

Hollis didn’t respond for a while after that. He concentrated on closing the wound with as much care as he could manage. It was after he placed gauze over he closed suture when he spoke again.

“Look, I know I look like a real hypocrite after doing what I did today. Trying to justify my actions with your impulsiveness is just a lousy excuse.”

The confession left Eddie speechless. The cop hastily continued before the brash kid could interrupt.

“The truth is I panicked, I took both of those guys out on instinct. A crime fighter needs to remain collected at all times. There’s no room for blindly reacting on instinct if your job is to keep the peace and make the world safer. I certainly have no right to scold you if what I’m doing is even worse.”

The hand that had long since finished applying the bandage remained on Eddie’s thigh. The action that was supposed to be comforting left the teen feeling as disconcerted as the words leaving the older man’s mouth.

“All I’m trying to say is that I’m sorry, alright? I’m sorry you had to see that. It was absolutely unprofessional and it won’t happen again.”

Eddie barely noticed when his partner started to gather his supplies back into the first aid kit. Sounds of blood rushing in his ears overpowered Hollis muttering something over his shoulder as he moved to return the box back into it’s place. The vivid yellow costume was stiffly pulled back into place, the black collar was fastened by slightly jittering fingers. The kid came back to reality when a domino mask was tossed on the table along with a bottle of spirit gum.

“ You can’t go around town unmasked like that. I don’t know if it’ll fit you, but it’s better than nothing.”

The teenager wordlessly applied the sticky liquid to the outer rim of the mask before pressing it into place. When the mask was adequately glued to his face, Eddie turned to Hollis and murmured out a quick ‘thanks’ before hurrying to the front door. The young hero was reaching towards the brass knob before his partner’s voice resounded behind him. Reluctantly, he looked back into the concerned features behind him.

“Don’t take the gauze off right away, wait about two days! Also, I would stay off my feet and relax for a while if I were you. Just let the bruises heal and you’ll be fine.”

Eddie managed the best sardonic grin that he could muster before giving an aloof response.

“Whatever you say Dr. Owl. I’ll see you around.”

 

After a lengthy ride on the New York subway, Eddie finally arrived at a decrepit boarding house. With some difficulty, he climbed the rickety fire escape up to his room on the third floor. Shoving open the unlocked window, the teen hurdled the window sill and tumbled into his cramped living space.

Making his way to the cot in the corner of the room, he sat at the edge of the bunk and undressed for the second time that evening. After hastily tearing off the last pieces of his costume, Eddie paused before removing the black mask covering his eyes. Grabbing the opposing edges of the mask, he took his time prudently peeling off the piece of plastic. When he was finished, the boy caught himself staring at the mask in his hand while the memories of the night raced through his mind. Taking one last look at the mask, the teen huffed out a self deprecating sigh before placing the little disguise on the cluttered nightstand nearest to him. A ratty wool blanket was pulled over the grumbling young man; he settled into his bed and tried to think about nothing.

_What, does he think I only got one mask or something? What a sap._

 

The next few days were composed of Eddie sitting around in the chilly room trying to occupy himself. Hours upon hours were spent reading old newspapers that normally collected dust on top of an old stool. When looking over the old stories became tedious, the teen switched to chain smoking while he cycled through stations on his radio. The upbeat jazz that warbled from the wooden machine did nothing to help the restlessness that screamed for the boy to get up and move; all encompassing soreness was the only deterrent against seeking excitement from the callous city nights.

When he let his thoughts wander, the first memory that came to the forefront of his mind was the patrol with Nite Owl. He thought about how the crooks were brought to their end with the most savage beating that he hadn’t been apart of. The way the man’s face caved in around the blunt metal was mesmerizing in a sadistic way that Eddie was familiar with. He tried to keep the beating as the focus of the night, as well as the reason why he kept revisiting the memory. As hard as he tried to just think about the ultra violence, his mind was drawn to the culprit behind the frenzy. Inevitably, he would see Hollis. The older man tore into the perps with maliciousness he thought until that moment only he was capable of. Details of the rampage didn’t bother Eddie at all; he slept like a baby every night he beat a guy’s face in beyond recognition. What he hated thinking about was the aftermath of it all.

The memory of being patched up and fretted over was unsettling to the young man; tension from the brawl was erased from the officer’s face and softened with concern. The mending was made worse by the apology that followed soon after. Feelings of earnestness from the cop were as tangible as the warm hand on his thigh, and it sickened Eddie to dwell on it for too long. Recalling the sincerity was equivalent to the feeling of burning his hand on a hot stovetop. He didn’t know what he hated more, Hollis’ attempt at comfort or himself for continuing to relive the experience. At the end of each day, the teen would push away the unwanted thoughts and pray that he wouldn’t find the gentle stare in his dreams.

 

When the injuries had finally healed up enough to begin crime fighting again, Eddie slowly began to realize that his attitude toward Hollis had changed. During the weekly meetings with the other Minutemen, the teen would catch himself paying extra close attention to the older man. He would watch the way the seasoned fighter would listen intently to whoever had something to say; whether it was a plan to bust a Moloch operation or some half-baked publicity stunt Larry cooked up, Hollis always gave his undivided attention. Those stern blue eyes were always so focused on the task at hand that they were inattentive to the subtle actions that transpired around him day to day. The teen took the slight obliviousness as an invitation to observe him a little closer.

When the meetings would come to an end, the heroes tended to stick around and chat for a while. For Eddie, the end of a meeting usually marked the time that he would go over to Silk Spectre and make some not-so-subtle innuendos through the guise of crass humor. With the recent shift of his interest, the lovely lady was left to Dollar Bill to keep her company. The boy would still linger after the meetings, but his time was devoted to leaning against a wall smoking a cigar and cautiously watching Hollis. The officer never seemed to lose all his rigidity, but he would noticeably loosen up when he would interact with Mothman. It was common to see the two chatting with each other after meetings, talking about mundane topics or just sharing a laugh. There were times when it was difficult to keep his irritation in check when Mothman would make a particularly amusing comment to Hollis that would have the normally somber man stifling his laughter; it was even harder when Hollis would casually place a hand on the lanky man’s shoulder or give him a friendly pat on the back when they departed.

_Why the fuck does he always hang around that fruity priss? What’s he got to say that’s so goddamn interesting?_

 

It was a whole month after the alley incident when Eddie finally accepted that his fascination with his teammate was veering away from casual intrigue. Usually, he could easily dismiss his constant thoughts about the other man, or even his newfound animosity towards Mothman; the self reflection began in earnest after he bought a newspaper on his way home one evening.

At first, the boy had stopped at the newsstand to buy some gum and maybe a couple of cigars. After a minute of perusing the many flavors of candy, the front page of a New Frontiersmen caught his eye. The photo on the front was none other than Nite Owl, smiling for the photo while effortlessly clutching a detained criminal. Eddie noticed that he had been staring at the paper for way too long when the once empty newsstand had become crowded with businessmen searching for some reading material on their way home without him realizing it. Forgetting about the candy or the smokes, the boy threw a nickel on the counter of the newsstand and hastily nabbed a copy of the newspaper.

In the privacy of his room, Eddie had the time and space to inspect the photo on the front page in depth. The criminal in the photo was gripped by the collar of his shirt and in handcuffs, glaring daggers at the hero who apprehended him; the teen was a little disappointed to find that the perp didn’t look too badly injured. A small crowd surrounded the older hero, each of them with varying levels of excitement beaming off of them. After viewing the less important details of the picture, Eddie refocused his attention on the man of the hour. Despite the graininess of the photo, the hero’s gratification was clear as day. He stood tall and confident, his uniform undeterred by his encounter with the thug. A huge grin stood vibrant on the cop’s face, his head slightly turned as he appeared to be talking with a little girl in the crowd. The man was surrounded by his admirers, yet he still didn’t show a bit of arrogance.

Eddie gazed at the picture for ages, transfixed by the man. Hollis’ kindness shown though the gray paper, and the teen allowed himself to envision the hero unabashed. For what felt like the millionth time, the hour spent getting patched up at the older man's house was brought to mind. A familiar jitteriness overwhelmed the teen as he remembered the low voice murmur out the subdued apology, his fingers traced the healed wound through the cloth of his costume.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he began to change out of his uniform; he tore off each bit of the costume like his life depended on it. When he was finally stripped down to just his undershirt and boxer shorts, he paused at the domino mask still attached to his face. Jagged nails scraped at the sticky glue that fastened the mask to his face; he held the mask by its corner edges and peeled it off slowly. It dawned on the kid that he had been using the same mask that Hollis had lent him that night. From a month of being stuck to a face that routinely got covered in various nasty substances from the countless hours of crime fighting, the thing looked a little worse for wear. Dark stains were visible on the mask and the section that rests on the face had become lumpy from the repeated use of spirit gum. The cheap mask was meant to be used temporarily, but the boy had worn it almost every time he was in costume.

The leg wound had healed almost completely; there was no visible redness, and little to no bruising. The only clue that there had been an injury there at all was the black stitches that were still imbedded into the skin. Gently, the adolescent felt the rough texture of the thread. Eddie rested his balmy hand over the stitching and closed his eyes. He could feel his face growing hot along with the tips of his ears. Unknowingly, he began to rub his sweaty hand in circles over the delicate skin of his thigh. The mask began to give under the force of the boy’s left fist. Images of Hollis were playing on repeat in his mind; the boy pictured the mature hero bashing a crook’s face in, laughing at one of Byron’s stupid jokes, smiling proudly at his young fans. Huffing out a few more shallow breaths, Eddie pretended that his decisive rubbing was the calloused hand of the cop. The boy attempted to stifle a startled yelp as he came in his shorts, untouched.

 

As the new week approached, so did the next Minutemen meeting. The assembly ended in the late evening, and after about an hour all the heroes had gone their separate ways. Hollis quickly navigated through long alleyways, eager to get home after a day of tedious Minutemen politics on top of his usual police work during the day. Despite still being in costume, thus still technically being a hero of the city, the officer let his thoughts wander to unwinding at his home. Hustling down the deserted alleyways, Hollis didn’t notice that he was being followed.

Eddie tried to control the volume of his breathing as he struggled to keep up to the older hero while remaining undetected. Quick-stepping quietly behind Hollis, the teen began to recognize the silent streets of Hollis’ placid neighborhood. The boy kept out of sight as he watched the older crimefighter reach into his pocket to find his keys. Hollis placed the key into the lock when he heard an impatent voice call out behind him.

“Christ Hollis, are you gonna be here all night tryin’ to open that thing?”

The officer jumped when he turned to see Eddie waiting at the bottom of the concrete steps, flashing his usual teasing smirk. Hollis’ expression quickly changed from startled to exasperated before he spoke to the teen.

“What the hell are you doing here? Did you follow me all the way from the meeting?”

“Come on, don’t you think you would’ve noticed me tip-toeing behind you from all the way over there? It’s easy to remember where a neighborhood as fruity as this is.”

Hollis sighed in aggravation, seeming to accept the younger hero’s lie. When he spoke again, it was at a much lower volume.

“You didn’t answer my first question. What are you doing at my front door in the middle of the night?”

“I came so you could finish what you started.”

The older crimefighter stared at Eddie, confusion plain on his face. The boy slowly made his way up the steps.

“The stitches, genius. Don't you remember puttin' them in?”

“Oh God, don't tell me you haven't taken them out yet.”

“Well you didn't teach me how or anything! How the hell was I supposed to know?”

The sound of the front door's lock echoed loudly in the silent night. Hollis swung the door open, grabbing Eddie's forearm as he stepped inside. Shutting the door behind him, the older crimefighter swung around to face the teen.

“Get into the kitchen and wait for me, alright?” Hollis gestured towards the kitchen’s entrance, his tone showing obvious annoyance. He stepped around the kid, leaving the boy alone while he brought out his first aid kit.

Eddie stepped into the kitchen, taking in the familiar clutter that remained from the last time he was there. By the time the teen had pulled up a chair by the table, Hollis had returned with the first aid kit.

Eddie partially removed his costume, tugging the jumpsuit off his torso and thighs, letting the bright material pool around his ankles. When the stitches were exposed, the officer stared at them with a pained expression.

“I can’t believe you kept those in for so long. It's a miracle they haven't gotten infected or your skin hasn't healed over them.” Hollis spoke while he disinfected the area around the stitches. The teen watched the man work, unabashedly taking in the nuances of his facial features. Eddie glanced from the focused expression to the scissors carefully cutting the tough thread. For once in his life, he managed to keep his mouth shut until Hollis tugged out the remaining stitches with practiced precision.

“Why are you doing all this?”

The older man jumped a bit at the question, startled after such a long period of silence. He frowned at the strange look Eddie was giving him, but he quickly brushed it off and continued to put his supplies back in the metal box.

“I thought we already talked about that, Eddie.”

“Is that so? Well doctor, if you would kindly refresh my memory, because I can't seem to recall your reasoning,” Eddie quipped as he buttoned up the front of his suit.

Hollis shot the kid a disbelieving look, his patience wearing thin in response to the teen’s mocking tone. Trying to regain his composure, the older man took a deep breath.

“Somehow, I'm still surprised at your capacity for being a complete bastard. Let me tell you kid, you're a real piece of work.”

Eddie smirked at the exasperated response. Fastening his collar into place, the teen took a small step toward Hollis.

“The reason I'm asking at all is because I got some concerns about what you get out of all of this.”

The medical kit clattered to the bottom of the wooden drawer where it usually resided. It was the older man's turn to give a sardonic smile; he took a step away from the cabinets behind him to face the boy.

“That's funny. So far, you've led me to believe that you only care about being a complete brat to everybody you meet.”

“Ya’ see, that's exactly the kinda thing I'm talkin’ about. You say you hate my fuckin’ guts, yet you choose to help me in the dead of night, what, twice now?”

Eddie took a small step toward Hollis, letting his accusatory tone hang in the air. Hollis’ smile slowly disappeared.

“You wanna know what I think Hollis? I think you're doin’ me all these favors because you wanna get one in return. Not just any favor, oh no, no. The kind of favor that guys like Nelson satisfy when they think no one's lookin’.”

The amount of remorse plain on the older man's face was almost tangible to the teen across from him. Hollis turned white as a sheet before he frantically tried to explain himself.

“Oh Jesus, Eddie. Listen I, that wasn't my intention at all. I swear to God, I was just trying to help you. I would never-”

“Yeah, that's what I expected you to say. Old creeps like you never want to admit to anything. But I saw you, Hollis. I saw the way you were looking at me, the way you were grabbin’ on me when you were patching me up. Just biding your time, waiting for the chance to catch me off guard.”

Hollis stepped back, hands in front of him defensively. The policeman wracked his brain thinking for a way to convince the boy in front of him that he was wrong. Smirking, Eddie started to slowly step forward; he spoke again before Hollis could oppose him.

“How would you do it, huh? Would you slowly slink your hands up my leg while you bandaged my cuts? You thought I'd just go along with it? Is that what you thought you fuckin’ faggot?”

Back bumping into the cabinets behind him, Hollis was trapped by the boy closing in on him. He scrunched his eyes closed, waiting for a gloved fist to connect with his nose.

The older man could feel heat radiating off the boy in front of him, who was almost pressed up against him at this point. A second passed where nothing happened; the kid seemed to stall his actions altogether in favor of just staring at the man next to him. The hesitance from Eddie was very unlike him to say the least. The longer they stood there idly, the more concerned Hollis became.

Another minute went by where Hollis stood, wondering what exactly was going through Eddie's head. He was beginning to think that the boy was just going to punch him in the arm and announce that he was only joking. It was when the policeman felt warm moisture at his mouth that his eyes shot open.

The first thing that came into view were the teen’s closed eyelids; they were scrunched closed like the older man's had been not a second ago, but for a much different reason. Hollis didn't need to look in order to know that Eddie was aggressively kissing him, licking at his lips, trying to get him to open his mouth.

For a moment Hollis was frozen in place, utterly stunned by what the teen was doing. He stood rigid, his hands balled into fists at his side. The boy's hands, that were resting on Hollis’ shoulders, began to slide down the older man's torso.

Black gloved hands dragged down, feeling the firm muscles on the way. The hands stopped moving once they reached the top of the short costume tights; curious fingers slowly started to dip into the waistband.

Hollis shoved the boy off of him, successfully removing his hands from anywhere near the inside of his uniform. Without a second thought, the policeman winded back his right arm and punched the kid as hard as he could right at the corner of his mouth.

The force of the attack had Eddie landing on the floor a few feet away from the other man, reeling from the powerful punch. Hollis stood above him, wired, waiting for the kid to get up and give him a smack of his own.

Eddie held his injured mouth, his face twisting up in pain. He pulled his hand away from his face, noticing a warm stream of blood pouring into his mouth from his busted lip. The teen looked up at Hollis; he noticed his tense stance, preparing to guard himself in case of a counter attack. Most of all, he saw disgust on the man's face as he looked down at him.

Time seemed to pass excruciatingly slow as Hollis watched the boy, trying to anticipate his next move. Wide brown eyes stared up at him, lacking the fire that was there seconds ago. Without looking away, the brown eyes seemed to glass over. Finally, Eddie broke eye contact; sat up, and buried his head in his hands. Sitting there on the tiled kitchen floor, Eddie began to cry.

Pitiful sobs began to fill the kitchen. Hollis stood still, absolutely bewildered by what the boy was doing. Despite all his fear and discomfort from before, the scene taking place in front of him unnerved the older man more than any of the boy's previous actions that night. Eddie trembled with the force of his heavy weeping, never once lifting his head up to face Hollis again.

Hearing steps approaching him, the teen tried to quiet down; he managed to exchange the crying for shallow breaths by the time the policeman was directly in front of him. A hand was placed carefully on his shoulder, and soon after a soothing low voice filled the room.

“Eddie, we can just forget about all of this, okay? I promise I won't tell anyone.”

When the boy gave no response, Hollis took it as his cue to continue.

“Would you like a ride home? It's no trouble.”

Still cradled by his arms, the boy nodded his head silently. When he glanced up he found that the hand that wasn't on his shoulder was holding out a cloth handkerchief. As the boy wordlessly wiped his face, the older man got on his feet. Eddie placed the used cloth in his pocket before he looked up and noticed a hand was still being offered to him. Hollis helped the boy up, and they both made their way to his police cruiser.

 

The two crimefighters traveled in complete silence; Eddie told the policeman to drop him off a few blocks away from his building. He exited the car wordlessly, without looking back.

Climbing through the window, the teen was greeted by the musty darkness of his room. Footsteps echoed loudly through the empty apartment as the boy made his way towards his bed.

He glanced over at his bedside table, which still adorned the newspaper photo and the old mask. Prudently, the photo was lifted up. Eddie took one last look at the hero's photo before pulling out a matchbook and lighting it up. He tossed all the items into a metal trashcan, along with the soiled handkerchief that was just given to him. The boy sat on the edge of his cot, watching the mementos burn into nothing.


End file.
